


Being Serious

by verbaepulchellae



Series: Sticky, Noisy and Messy [2]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Children, Domestic, Family, Humor, M/M, More!Babysitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-01
Updated: 2012-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 15:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verbaepulchellae/pseuds/verbaepulchellae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John attempts to broach the subject of starting a family. Sherlock, as always, is 12 steps ahead and Mrs. Hudson is <i>not</i> an appropriate option for a surrogate mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being Serious

**Author's Note:**

> So this lovely bit was inspired by a lovely prompt over on the kink_meme... as usual.

Despite Sherlock’s threats of Death Rays, Michael adored his time so much at 221 B Baker St, that it’s not long before Lestrade approaches John at crime scene. “I don’t suppose you mind,” the DI says as he takes a sip of black coffee and looks disapprovingly at the mangled body Sherlock is circling like a vulture, “but Michael won’t stop asking to see his uncles John and Sherlock…”

“You can bring him over on Friday,” John laughs. Although Sherlock shows Lestrade his actual full-scale blue print of the horrible machine he and Michael designed, Lestrade still shows up on Friday night at seven with the promise of taking them all to breakfast as compensation the next morning.

It becomes an impromptu tradition. About once a month, when there are no cases on and John isn’t swamped at the surgery, Lestrade drops Michael off for the evening. And it’s lovely. John helps Michael with his homework and plays games with him. Sherlock will stay clear of Michael until the boy works up the courage to approach him ask him they might design a new weapon for his Dad. Then outcome a months worth of new drawings and Sherlock pulls out the sketch pad he purchased just for these moments. John tidies up the kitchen and makes tea while Sherlock and Michael sit on the couch and consult in low voices.

They are about six months into the arrangement, when one evening, after they tuck Michael into the upstairs bedroom which is still cluttered with John’s old things, that John joins Sherlock at the kitchen table and says quietly, “I want to talk to you about something. Would you like tea?” 

“Always,” Sherlock says, absorbed in looking over Stun Rays and Shrink Rays and something truly terrible that Michael had named the “The Brain Fryer”. 

When John sits back down at the table Sherlock is readdressing some of the finer points of his newest design, that of “Vortex Thrower” that, if functioned correctly, would throw Bad Guys into an eternal Vortex of Doom. He extends his hand to awkwardly accept his cup and then smiles up at John. “Thank you.”

John sits quietly for a moment and feels Sherlock’s eyes on him, considering. He’s just summed up the courage to say _Sherlock, I think we should talk about children,_ When Sherlock snorts, “Are you really so moved by Lestrade’s spawn?”

“What?” John splutters.

“I asked if Michael really drives you to the point of wanting children of your own. Strange, how just one child can do that,” Sherlock muses thoughtfully and takes a sip of his tea.

“Alright,” John says slowly, taking a breath, “I guess I should have seen that coming. How do you…? I know last time I mentioned it, you didn’t think I was serious.”

“Last time you said anything on the subject matter, you simply said you thought I would make a good Father.”

“I still do. I think _we_ could be great fathers.”

That makes Sherlock pause and he puts down his mug and looks intently at John. “You want us to have a family.”

It’s not a question, but John answers it anyway. “I do.”

Sherlock laughs. “I would be an awful father.”

“You’re not half bad with children, despite your irrational fear of them.”

“They have germs,” Sherlock sniffs, “And are sticky and noisy and messy.”

“Unsurprisingly,” John smiles, “so are you.”

“Irrelevant.” Sherlock sits back in chair and waves away John’s jibe with a lazy pass of his hand. But his dark eyes are serious and he cocks his head as he considers John. “You are actually serious, aren’t you? You want this.”

“Yes,” John says.

“Why?”

“Because I think that despite all your protests, you understand children in a way very few do, and when you forget to be a prick, you’re quite good with them and they adore you, because you’re brilliant. And I want to raise a child that has your mind and my emotional intelligence (because it _is_ quite high, I don’t care how many times you tell that story about the sniper who I thought was trying to make friends because he _was_ ).” Sherlock chuckles but John continues, “But most of all, Sherlock, and I really mean this, I want to see you persuade a child to eat their vegetables while you still refuse to eat your own.”

“Those are really crap reasons,” Sherlock says, his face unreadable as he reads every one of John’s secrets. 

“I know,” John says rather hopelessly. 

“But,” Sherlock continues as he holds up a finger, “I’m not adverse to the idea.” He smiles as he catches sight of John’s expression. 

“Really?” John asks.

“Well, we have a lot to talk about. But, yes. A child would be… not the worst thing in the world. It might even be very enjoyable.”

“You’re serious,” John mumbles, rather bemused. “God, you are actually serious. We could really do this.”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Sherlock teases and reaches out to take John’s hand. “It can’t be that much of a surprise; you were confident I would say yes.”

“Well, yeah, after a lot of wheedling and flow charts and exact calculations of why this would be a good idea,” John laughs. “But I never expected you to agree so… readily I guess.”

“You’ve been thinking about it for a while, which of course made me consider it. I had a feeling you would bring it up sooner or later.” Sherlock stifles a laugh at John’s face. “I’m sorry,” Sherlock says gently at a look from John, “you’ve always been so easy to read.”

“You could have said something,” John says reproachfully. “Here I’ve been wracking my brain for a good way to broach the subject and here you’ve known… how long have you known?”

“I first caught you really looking at the baby four months ago, in Angelo’s,” Sherlock says, rocking back in his chair in a childish manner that Mycroft always frowned over.

“What? I don’t even remember that,” John laughs. 

“That was the first time you every thought seriously about it. After that, it grew gradually.” Sherlock cocks his head and smiles at John, that rare, untouchable smile that John has never seen grace Sherlock’s features for anyone but him.

“Good Lord, you are so insufferably brilliant,” John says as he pulls on Sherlock’s hand so the taller man has to lean across the table and kiss him. “You said you’ve been thinking about it too. What were you considering?” John finally asks, when he’s had enough of stealing Sherlock’s breath.

“That you would actually have to move your things out of the upstairs bedroom,” Sherlock chuckles, and John joins him. “I was mostly thinking about obtaining a child, for you. I understand that kidnapping is looked down upon, so we’ll likely have to go about it in the traditional way.”

“One of us getting pregnant?” John laughs, too giddy with the sudden knowledge of Sherlock’s consent be completely mature.

“Well, as science hasn’t progressed that far yet, I’m afraid we would have to wait a very long time for that work… though I’m never adverse to trying.”

“You’re hardly adverse to trying anything in the bedroom.”

“You know where I draw the line. I will absolutely not invite Anderson to join us.”

“You know I was joking!” John protests through his laughter but Sherlock just makes a disgusted face at him. “No really, Sherlock. Now that we’re trying for a baby, I swear no more talk of threesomes… we can’t risk getting pregnant with Anderson’s seed.”

“I think I may actually loose what dinner I had if you do not stop making that joke.”

“Alright, alright.” John holds his hands up in defeat. “The joke retires here and now, I swear.”

“Thank you.” Sherlock gives John a little nod and laces his fingers behind his head. “So pregnancy aside, we have a few options.”

“Surrogacy and adoption,” John supplies. He takes a sip of tea and finds it’s nearly gone cold. “Another cup of tea?” He asks as he stands up.

“No, thanks, I’m fine,” Sherlock calls after him. “Do you have any thoughts?”

“About which one I’d prefer? I hadn’t much thought about it,” John admits. “I mean, I was mostly focused on the best argument to convince you to say yes.”

“In the future, it will be always be ‘as a subject for science,’” Sherlock supplies in lazy good humor and John guffaws. “Well, we can discuss it now.”

John comes and sits back down at the table. “Do you have a preference?” he asks.

“I was first considering surrogacy, there is an appeal to it; having a child genetically related to you, continuing the family line and all that. But there’s the problem of finding the surrogate mother… I figured our only real options were Molly, Donovan or Mrs. Hudson.”

John chokes on his tea and Sherlock slaps him on the back helpfully while he sniggers. “My thoughts exactly. And then… well, then I realized even if we did find a surrogate, I would want you to be biological father.”

“Why?” John asks, confused. “Your child would be brilliant; absolutely brilliant.”

Sherlock shrugs. “How do you feel on the matter?”

John thinks for a moment and then says, “I think you’re right about the issue of the surrogate mother. The safest bet would be Molly, honestly, and she would probably faint upon being asked, and even if she accepted, would somehow end up dating the new villain of the week. I don’t want our child exposed to that,” he laughs. “But, Sherlock, I don’t trust my genes; look at what happened to Harry. I don’t want that for a child.

“And mine produced Mycroft,” Sherlock offers and John shrugs.

“Point taken.”

“So we both agree?”

“That surrogacy would, in some way, be a complete disaster? I think so.”

John smiles into his tea for a moment, feeling the warmth bubble inside of him at the thought of having a child of their own. 

“So, you are not opposed to the idea of adoption?”

“Did you think I would be?” John asks gently. “You can’t have.”

“I doubted you would be, but then, you are such a family man.” Sherlock swipes John’s tea to warm his fingers. He always had bad circulation. He takes a sip and makes a face at the bitter taste. 

“I’m a family man as long as it’s with you,” John says fondly, and steals back his tea.


End file.
